Just Another Kid
by Thecattygrl
Summary: When Peter Parker begins to uncover the truth about himself and his parents, he learns the unfortunate truth that one of his fathers - That's right, fathers - is already dead. Him and Tony Stark slowly start to put together their new lives, but not before disaster strikes. Will it be the thing that tears them apart or will it give them something that neither ever thought possible?
1. Chapter One

**Catty:** _I was going to say a big long piece about what I wanted to include in this fic, but at this point, I'm way beyond that point and have, like, fifteen chapters of this thing written and depending on the response to this, thoughts for a sequel, so... I'll just say enjoy and expect lots of angst, followed by lots of family bonding because I have been writing this story so much I haven't had a decent sleeping schedule in days._

* * *

Peter had always known there was something weird about him. At first, it'd been simple things. He almost never experienced sickness, even at very early stages in his life when such a thing would have been expected. If that hadn't been enough to set off alarms, he found himself unusually strong for his size. Had he been a fighter – Or even had a basic interest in the various sports teams that his school offered – there could have been potential there for someone with a lot more bang for his buck. In his middle school years, there'd been a party and someone had thought to break into their parents alcohol cabinets and as the drinks were passed around, he really had no reason to stop himself from trying some. But, as fate would have it, no matter the amount he consumed his friends dropped like flies around him but he was unaffected – Barely even feeling lightheaded. Of course, that hadn't spared him a good licking from his Uncle Ben.

This, however, had always seemed normal to Peter. While he had some inkling that he was different, it had never been prevalent. It had never really _mattered_.

And all of a sudden, at fifteen, he'd found himself with powers – _real_ powers that belong solely to _him_ and the little things he'd remembered as a child had seemed insignificant. He'd been overcome by so much in so little time that those things had slipped from his mind completely. And then, if that hadn't been enough, when the truth behind all those things could have surfaced – A chance to learn who he truly was – instead he'd faced a wild goose chase, featuring people who could never have been his parents – Who'd died years before he'd been born.

And he'd come to learn just how many lies he'd faced. Slowly, like paint chipping away from an old and decaying wall, the truths around his reality began to take shape. The couple he'd come to call his aunt and uncle apparently had no relation to him. Uncle Ben's grandmother, so Aunt May claimed, had been a woman admired and revered in her times and had even known the great Captain America before he'd fallen under the ice. A handful of his teachers had revealed themselves as agents, under a top secret mission that they refused to admit once he'd uncovered it – Presumably for his own _safety_.

And, brick by painful brick, he learned the true intentions of so many people. Only his peers seemed to be spared this gathering and there was one in specific that Peter knew he could seek out and ask for help from. One who had the resources he needed and wouldn't rat him out.

"There's no match, Peter," Harry stated, handing him a file that bore the news he himself spoke in so many words.

Peter couldn't quite speak, opening the file and gazing upon the conformation he should have checked long ago. He'd been so _blind_ to think that all these clues left _specifically_ for him to find would have been anything but a trap. He'd so badly wanted to know the truth he hadn't even _considered_ it all be a ruse.

"Who were they?" Harry inquired, giving the silent Peter a significant look.

"Well, according to several sources..." Peter took a deep breath, unsure if he wanted to say it out loud. It was like finally admitting that all the time he'd dedicated to the search – All the answers he'd sought after – They meant nothing. Even if he knew it to be true, it was hard to accept, "The one man was my father."

"Your father?" Harry widened his eyes, confused, "Well… Maybe it has to do with your… Condition, Pete. Maybe things got changed around and-"

"That would make sense, wouldn't it?" Peter chuckled, bitterly, "You'd think they planted that one, too. Everything turned out _so_ perfectly. The amount of planning that probably went into this… I couldn't even imagine."

"Pete..." Harry's expression became concerned, but it was obvious he wasn't sure what to do in this situation.

"I know, Harry," Peter sighed, leaning back in his seat and sliding his hand through his bangs in exasperation, "But they wouldn't go through all this effort for just _anyone_ , right? Obviously, whoever my real parents were, they had to be important. Whatever they did put me in so much jeopardy that becoming _Spiderman_ wasn't enough to tell me the truth."

"Peter… Maybe there's a reason that they did all of this," Harry sat down on a nearby chair as well, leaning forward a bit. "With everything that's happened in the last few years. The number of bad guys that show up have only increased in difficulty. The death of… Anyways, it's a lot going on and maybe it's not _safe_ to pursue this. At least not right now."

"It's not like this is new," Peter laughed, "We've both had a lot coming at us for a while, Harry."

"I suppose so," Harry let out a small smile, moving to rest his back against the chair.

"Well, whoever they are..." Peter looked out the window, watching a bird fly across his vision, "I hope that my parents are at least doing something good, right now."

"I'm sure they're heroes, Pete."

A few floors away, a young woman working at a computer excused herself for a coffee break, removing her headphones and swatting a coworker, playfully, when he asked if she was going to meet with someone. They laughed and she let herself out of the room, the badge clipped to her belt swinging slightly as she moved.

Pulling into an empty hallway, she made her way to a closet, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching before she entered. Positive that she was alone, an earpiece was pulled from a pocket inside her jacket and she turned it on, waiting a moment to allow the thing to boot up.

"Hello? This is Agent Blake. I'm reporting in on Project Lehigh."

"Mame, all projects prior to Incident C-V 215 have been cancelled."

"That's impossible. This entire operation is still in full effect."

"We have no records on any projects prior to Incident C-V 215."

"Put me through to someone else."

"Agent, I don't have the auth-" She furrowed her brow in confusion as the other was cut off, only to have a second voice come back through.

"Agent Blake," the other voice said, "This is Agent Coulson. What is your update?"


	2. Chapter Two

"Tony." Bruce watched in exasperation as the billionaire downed another drink, slamming the glass down on his work bench before continuing with his tinkering. All morning, he'd been here, trying to get Tony to see reason and put down his toys for a few moments. The attempt, which really was part of a much longer process, hadn't been working thus far. Over the course of the last few months, Tony had turned down everything from press conferences and women to tasks sent to him from… Whatever SHEILD was calling themselves, these days. Nothing seemed to have motivated him to leave the dark and alcohol consumed life he was now leading.

"Master Stark," a voice broke into their conversation, making both look up even though the source of the sound was not visible to them.

"What is it, JARVIS?"

"It seems that someone has breached the security system. I've estimated a good thirty seconds before they reach you."

" _What_?" Tony is suddenly out of his seat, looking more alive than Bruce had seen him in a while, "JARVIS, I thought I told you to keep people out!"

"I am sorry, Sir, but they overrode my systems-"

"Well, then who the fuck is it?"

"Hello, Mister Stark. Banner."

The voice, unfortunately, was one that he could easily recognize and Tony let out an exasperated groan. Turning to look at the new arrival with the most disgusted look he could manage and his teeth bared, he spoke, "Agent."

"Hello, Coulson," Bruce replied, softly.

"What the hell do you want?" If it wasn't already obvious, Tony didn't really like having people in his office – Especially people who worked for Fury – and while Phil Coulson had grown on him a little, it certainly wasn't enough to grant him free access to his very private workspace. If he was being honest, Bruce shouldn't have even been there either, but… Well… Tony's gotta admit he's fond of the little dork.

"I've got a mission for you," Phil explained, smiling politely. The act seemed to only piss Tony off more and Bruce vaguely wondered whether it would be a good idea to leave, but didn't dare move incase he brought attention to himself and suddenly was roped into this _mission_ as well. One could never be careful with Fury and his team of agents.

"Haven't you guys got the memo that I'm not interested based on the fact I've ignored all your other little projects?" Tony demanded, not even trying to hide the annoyance and snark in his voice. There was no way Phil came in here thinking this would be an easy in-and-out job and, if he did, Tony was more than prepared to show him how wrong he'd been.

"This isn't your normal _project_ ," Phil let himself have a satisfied smirk, adding a little fuel to Tony's irritation. He held out a memory card to the billionaire and Tony looked back at him like he was insane.

"I'm not being your lapdog. I think I've earned my retirement by now," Tony stated, his lips pressed into a firm line.

"Do you remember Project Lucina?" Coulson inquired, sounding more curious than anything. Tony raised an eyebrow, not quite sure if the other was serious or not.

"You mean the project I was helping you with before I learned what you were using it for?" Tony clarified, "The one you said would be to help young infertile and same-sex couples produce children before I discovered you were using it to breed super soldiers from various heroes DNA samples? _That_ Project Lucina?"

"Oh, so you _do_ remember," Phil smiled, almost pleased. With every word, Tony had to keep himself from putting a fist between those pretty, white teeth. He'd seen the other stutter and trip over his words when it came to Captain America, but every other meeting had been all snark and absolutely no way to wiggle his way out of anything. He'd have been a valued member of Tony's circles if the bastard didn't already answer to a bigger annoyance, "Well, it just so happens that we ran a few secret test runs while the project was still open. We had intended to use it as a way to persuade you to stay on the project, since you would eventually discover the truth anyways. Unfortunately, you left before we could break the good news and, well, we wanted to keep it for a rainy day."

"What are you talking about?" Tony, despite himself, couldn't ignore that. Those had been brighter days and, while he wouldn't exactly have liked giving up the happy moments that'd happened since then, he wished more than anything that the clock could have turned back to then. The dark shadow that fell over his features was impossible to miss, but Phil ignored it as he continued to explain.

"It was no mystery to us, of course, that you and the Captain were _very close_ , Mister Stark," Phil said, making the expression Tony wore darken further. Even Bruce was beginning to feel a bit antsy, but Phil remainded the same, "We had imagined that the both of you were a little more intimate than either were letting on and, by the time you both made it official, well… That had only cemented our theories."

" _What_ are you _talking about_?" Tony repeated, jaw clenched and a snarl forming on his features. A moody Tony was not a pleasant one to deal with, but a furious Tony? That was a storm not even gods would take on. He knew from experience.

"We preformed the experiment using samples we'd acquired – Both yours and the good Captain's," Coulson's expression grew serious then, leveled directly at Tony, "And it produced results, Mister Stark. The full details are here for you." For a second, Tony stayed in stunned silence, the anger drained from his face in shock. In the next, he was grabbing the memory card and placing it into workspace, unable to stop himself. If it was a joke or some kind of ruse, Phil would feel the full force of his wrath. There would be no place him or his employer could find him. But then again, Phil had idolized the Captain… Surely he couldn't have so easily have gotten over it that he could joke about something like this? If there was even just the smallest hint of the man he'd loved left in the world… Just the tiniest blip…

When the memory card loaded, an image of a young man came up, perhaps sixteen in age. Bruce, having remained silent this whole time, could help but stare with wide eyes at the boy, drawn in by the whole event that had unfolded before him.

Tony brought his fingers up, gently caressing the light projection. He could deny how much that face reminded him of himself, especially the eyes, but there was a hint of something else, too, and Tony nearly chocked out a sob when he recognized the something else as Steve. There was no one else it could have been.

"What's his name?" Tony inquired, softly. Phil smiled, kindly this time.

"His name is Peter Parker."

Tony's vision blurred a bit with tears, but he didn't let them go. Not yet. He let out a small laugh, sounding both broken and relieved at the same time, "That's a stupid name. I bet you came up with it."

"I thought the Captain would like it."

"Ha! I'm sure he would've! Stupid bastard probably would have suggested that exact name!" Bruce moved a little closer to remind Tony he was still there without actually getting into his personal bubble and Phil wordlessly showed himself out. Tony had the information and the seed had been planted. When he was ready, he would call. Phil doubted it would take very long, now.


	3. Chapter Three

The first thing Peter had experienced when he'd told Aunty May was guilt. They had spent so long looking after one another that this was almost like betraying her. Even if she had kept the truth from him for so long, she had always showed him love like he was her own when no one else had. That, of course, had been a feeling she quickly scared him out of by reminding him that she might be older, but she was still an agent. That had gotten them to share a laugh and she'd reminded him that, no matter where he was or what he found out, she would always love him like her own. He'd hugged her for that and returned the sentiment with tears in his eyes.

Now, he stood on the doorstep with a backpack filled with a few valuables and necessities and looked out, not quite sure he was ready to leave yet. While answers were waiting for him just beyond this door, he wasn't positive this was something he'd ever be able to return to.

Aunty May had sat him down and explained to him everything she knew. It had been more than him, incidentally, but not enough. She had warned him that, if he sought after the truth, the time would be right and he could know, but there would be no coming back. The mission would be concluded and agents who'd been undercover would go home, including her. The choice was his.

At the time, he'd been eager to move on, but now he wasn't so sure. Staring out into the street and feeling the knot twist in his stomach, he was beginning to think he'd made the wrong choice.

"Peter. You're going to miss your train," Aunty May's voice was soft and kind and he almost felt himself breaking right then and there. His hands trembled a little and he glanced back at her with a wobbling lip. She gave a soft smile and pulled him to herself, carding her fingers through his hair as a sign of comfort.

"I'm going to miss you, Aunty May," he whispered, burying his face in her shoulder. She felt her own eyes tear up a bit, but before she could let herself get weepy, she pulled away from him and pressed a piece of paper into his hand. He glanced down at it with confusion and then back up at her.

"It's my number," she explained, affectionately, "You can call me there any time, Peter, and I will answer. I only ask that you don't share it around – It's somewhat of a secret number and I would hate for it to fall in the wrong hands."

"Aunty May I..." Peter looked down at the numbers scrawled across the paper, in a handwriting he'd come to associate her with the past sixteen years of his life. He looked back to her one more time, unable to stop the tears this time, "I… I love you."

"Oh, Petie," she cooed, pulling him close once again, "I love you, too… And I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks, Aunty May," he sniffled, trying to pull himself together as he wrapped her up in one last hug.

"Oh and Peter?"

He moved away enough to see her face, the slightly joking twinkle in her eye covering up the sadness, "Yeah?"

"Try not to worry your parents with all your antics as much as you worried me."

He laughed. "No promises, Mame."

* * *

"You look anxious, Peter." The boy in question glanced up, furrowing his brow at the agent sitting across from him. In reality, he should have probably expected something like this, but he still was having trouble coming to terms with the fact his principle was actually a secret agent and they were both driving to some unknown location in a _limo_. All of this seemed not only completely unimaginable, but it only made the whole _meeting his parents_ thing twenty times weirder.

"Who? Me? Nah," Peter chuckled. His nervous tone gave away everything and Phil couldn't help the fond smile.

"It's quite expected, really. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Peter didn't answer right away, unsure what to say. Instead, he stared down at his hands and let his mind , after a moment, he looked back up and said, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Phil pointed out, earning a look from Peter.

"You know what I mean."

Phil laughed, waving his hand as a sign for him to continue, "Like father, like son. Yes, of course. Ask away."

Peter pointed ignored the first comment, not quite ready to face it, "Why now?"

"You'll need to be more specific."

"Why are you guys caving and letting me do this _now_?" Peter clarified, glaring.

"You were finally beginning to see past our story," Phil replied, calmly, "It would have been difficult to keep you from finding your own answers from then on, so we decided to just let you have them… Besides, your father needed a little… Incentive."

"Incentive?" Peter's eyes narrowed, dangerously, "I thought you guys were supposed to be keeping me safe? Are you telling me you've been using me as some kind of hostage?"

"On the contrary, that would imply someone besides us knew where you were," Phil replied, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, "Or even who you were. In truth, your parents had no idea you existed. Even now, Daddy doesn't know more than your name and your face. In fact, there are some very key details about you we've kept from him. For the sake of your identity, of course. You're welcome."

"Yeah, uh..." Peter rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly. While he had somewhat assumed the agents had known about his gig, it was still a shock to hear it in so many words, "What about my mom? You haven't said anything about her."

There was silence for a moment and Peter couldn't help but glance up. Phil sighed, settling his hands into his lap before looking back to him, "Well, the easy answer is that you don't have a mom, Peter. In fact, you never did."

"Um… Come again?" Peter raised an eyebrow, not quite sure he heard the other right. He'd come to believe in a lot of stuff while he was playing super hero around the five boughs of New York, but this was a whole other kind of crazy.

"Sit back, Parker. It's going to be a very long ride."


	4. Chapter Four

Tony paced back and forth, fixing his cuffs for the hundredth time. It'd been weeks since he'd last put on a suit, nitinol or otherwise, and the fact that this situation was important enough to pull him out of that funk was making everything worse. He was beginning to consider calling the whole thing off when a voice cut through his fretting.

"They're here, Sir."

"JARVIS, I've changed my mind!" Tony announced, panic coursing through him like a poison. This was too much. He wasn't ready to be a father. He couldn't be responisble for someone else. The last time that'd happened, he'd…

"It's too late, Sir. I'm afraid Master Coulson has already made his way into the building."

"Well, have him unmake his way in here! I'm not doing this anymore! I-" Tony's words were suddenly cut short by the door swinging opening, followed by the appearance of two people in its frame. The first was Agent Phil Coulson, who leveled him with a no nonsense glare even before Tony realized they were there. The second was a boy – Only a year or two into high school – who hadn't even acknowledged his presence, yet. The kid was obviously too fascinated with the building around him. Being inside Stark's work office had been a way to ensure he didn't freak out before they even got into the door. The kid probably thought he was the son of some fancy scientist who worked for him or something. No doubt this would come as a surprise.

Peter could barely comprehend where he was. Instead of trying to wrap his head around the information Agent Coulson had given him in the car, Peter took in the vast science that was just beyond his fingertips. He'd been given sneak peaks into _Oscorp_ technology because of Harry, but if his father – Fathers, maybe? - was some kind of employee of _Stark Industries_ , well that would make him the happiest kid alive. Phil had directed him silently to their meeting, not even giving him the tiniest show of emotion, but Peter couldn't have kept the wonder out of his eyes if he tried.

All the way to the meeting room, Peter continued on his adventure, his smile not falling until the second his eyes landed on the person in the room they were destined for – The only other person in the room. Almost immediately, his face fell in shock and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

Tony had promised himself he wouldn't cry, but the moment the boy's eyes landed on him, the man was reminded so much of Steve that a choked noise made itself known, anyways. Any doubts he had about this drained out of him as he swore right then and there that he'd hold onto this kid and never let him out of his sights, ever.

Doing his best to compose himself, Tony straighten his suit one last time and put on a CEO smile, moving towards the pair with his shoulders thrown back, "Oh, so you actually decided to make it, Agent? I was beginning to think you'd forgotten."

"We're right on the dot, Mister Stark," Phil reminded him, easing up a bit on his glare.

"You're never on time. It's harder to play your fancy entrances that way."

"I assumed this meeting would be startling enough."

"Yeah, I bet you did," Tony scoffed, turning his attention to Peter, who hadn't dared moved since he'd laid eyes on Tony. He was beginning to wonder if maybe this whole thing was just a dream, "Doesn't talk much, does he? I thought you told me he was going to be a handful? If he stays like this the whole time, I highly doubt that. Peter Parker, is it? My name is Tony Stark. In case they haven't told you this, yet... I'm your father."

It wasn't until he was shaking hands with the man that the truth finally began to settle in, his face lighting up like a birthday cake and Tony knew he was damned already with how this kid wore his emotions on his face with no filter, "Mister Stark, Sir! I'm a huge fan of yours! I never thought I'd actually meet you in person, Sir! I mean, I thought maybe I'd have a pretty cool dad if he even so much as _worked_ for you, but I… I..."

And just like that, the color drained from his face and the moment of pride Tony was experiencing shattered as both him and Phil knew the realization Peter had come to. The relationship between Tony and Steve Rogers had never been a secret. Barely after they had decided to be official, Tony had shared it with the world – Never one to keep things to himself. While Steve had never really liked the attention it brought, he'd understood the price of being with Tony. Everyone in the world, let alone New York City, knew about them being together.

And everyone knew how they'd ended, as well.

"Holy shit," Peter muttered, his entire person seemed to droop, even his grip growing weak. He wasn't sure how to word a question he already knew the answer to, but was unable to stop himself. The words broke Tony's heart no less had he been unprepared for them, "So… This means my other dad is…?"

"Steve, yeah," Tony nodded, remaining neutral faced. He had been this composed even _thinking_ about Steve since his death, but something in him knew that breaking down would cause Peter to flip and watching those big brown eyes fill with tears would be like Steve crying. That wasn't something he was ready to deal with, "Captain America, I guess is what most people called him, but he'd always insist on loosing the title if you talked to him for more than five minutes. It would have been humbling, had I not been immune to that kind of thing."

Peter laughed, but it was a broken laugh, his voice cracking with the sound. He didn't cry, just sort of stared blankly ahead, looking straight through Tony and even through the wall beyond. From the records, this kid had been searching for his parents a long time and to go through so much work and come so far only to be told you were too little too late – That would have been a little more than disappointing. Phil, sensing his cue, silently slipped away to give them their privacy.

Before he really could think about it, Tony had the boy pressed against himself, a hand to the back of his head and keeping Peter's face against his shoulder. Despite the fact that they were practically strangers, Peter didn't resist the hug; Let himself be consoled by actions since Tony found himself speechless. It already took everything in him not to break down entirely.

"I'm sorry, Peter," Tony's voice was shaky, holding the boy a little tighter as his vision finally began to blur, "I know it's not enough, but I'm sorry."

Peter's reply was muffled and spoke so much about the kid. It both lit Tony's heart with pride and crushed him the way Peter's voice could hold so much clever sarcasm and still be so broken. It reminded him too much of himself, "Don't sweat it, Pops. Really. You're plenty more than I thought I'd get."


	5. Chapter Five

"What'cha playing, Kid?" Peter looked up from hanging over the back of the couch, catching Tony leaning next to him and keeping his eyes on the screen in front of them. While it wasn't like hanging off his wall like he liked, it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, he still had a secret identity to keep – Even from his own father. At first, Peter hadn't been sure if he should keep his secret from Tony, but he'd remembered how insistent Phil had been about it. Surely he'd known they were going to meet another superhero, so there must have been a reason. He hadn't been out the past few days due to trying to figure out his way around the house and learn his new father's schedule. It was making him antsy, at best. The only real relief was the incredibly cool stuff he'd acquired. It didn't matter that Peter couldn't even _think_ of anything else he could ever want because Tony had that covered, too. It was like the guy had an easier time giving material things than actually saying how he felt. With the exception of their encounter that first day, a ruffle of his hair or the occasional accidental touch when they were next to one another, Tony wasn't physically affectionate, either. While it was a little difficult for Peter, having grown up with the constant coddling of his Aunt May, he understood that Tony was trying his best and appreciated it.

"Some hero game," he replied, returning his attention to the battle he was engaged in with some NPC, playing as the amazing Spiderman, of course, "It was in the box you brought home and I used to play it all the time with Harry."

"Harry?" Tony questioned, curiously. Despite how easy it had been for Peter to just up and move into Tony's house and life, he was often reminded about how little the man actually knew about him. And, despite how public his life was and how big of a fan Peter had been, how little he knew in turn. Now was one of those times.

"He's my best friend," Peter explained, cringing as he was taken out by the NPC and watched with mild discomfort as his character lay on the ground, with the words " _Game Over_ " flashing omnisciently on the screen. The title card came up after a second and he, once again, decided to play as himself.

"You a fan of him as well?" Tony questioned, gesturing to the television.

"Yeah… Ha. Something like that," Peter forced out a neutral reply, trying to keep the panic off his face, "Don't you? I mean… He's definitely got a lot of skill and a pretty cool persona, right? Kind of totally awesome, plus he doesn't take orders from anyone – Just goes out there and totally does what's right." There was definitely gonna be some serious problems between them if Tony decided he thought Spiderman was a joke, for obvious reasons.

Much to his relief, Tony laughed instead, "You don't have to get all defensive. Personally, I think the kid has a lot of promise. He's a little rough around the edges, but… Aren't we all, at first? Unfortunately, that one newspaper doesn't exactly give him a good reputation."

" _The Daily Bugle_? Yeah, tell me about it," Peter grumbled, a pout settling on his face. He would have denied it, but it was definitely there, "I used to work for Jameson, a while ago, but things didn't really stick. I've never seen one guy so angry for no reason… Well, I mean, that's not entirely true but this guy made the top of the list."

"That's interesting. Only sixteen and already been hired _and_ fired," Tony smirked, amused. His boy had grown up so much, already. He was almost sad he hadn't been there to see it all, "At this rate, you're gonna turn out to be exactly like me."

"You think so?" Peter's eyes widened in excitement, looking directly at Tony from his upside down position on the couch. Even if he could keep himself from freaking out too much on a day to day basis, getting actual praise from one of his idols was impossible to suppress – Even if that idol turned out to be your dad.

"It's not as great as it seems, Kid," Tony chuckled, sliding away from the couch and walking off to the attached kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee, "I worked hard to get here and there were plenty of rough patches."

"I think I can handle a couple of those," Peter beamed, brightly. He rolled off the couch, taking a seat on the floor and keeping his eyes directly on Tony as he poured his coffee, "You really think I could be like you, someday, Tony?" The name still sounded a little funny in his mouth, but calling him Mister Stark had been blatantly rejected by the man, so they'd settled for being on a first name basis and letting things be as casual as either of them were comfortable with.

Tony looked over at the sound of his name, his heart melting a little at how excited the kid looked about it. He had remembered his dad once telling him how easily excited Steve had been back when he'd first started out and Tony decided it probably looked a hell of a lot like this. He walked back over, ruffling the other's hair as he passed him.

"If that's what you really want, Peter," Tony laughed, settling on the couch. He was having trouble coming to terms with someone really wanting to be like him, but who could deny a face like that, "Say, is this game multiplayer?"

Peter raised an eyebrow, a challenging smirk settling across his face as he dug out a second controller from behind a pile of games, "You think you can take me, Old Man?"

"Watch it, boy. I've been playing games for longer than you've been alive," Tony warned, jokingly. He accepted the controller and, before they knew it, they were several rounds in and JARVIS was saying it was about time for them to consider dinner options.


	6. Chapter Six

**Catty:** _I'm thinking a little bit of Spideypool for the sequel, but I'm still on the edge about whether or not it should be one sided. Part of me thinks it would fit the story better, but another part of me wants Wade to be happy. Tell me what you guys think._

* * *

"Master Peter." The boy stopped, frozen in the windowsill as JARVIS' voice interrupted his escape. As helpful as the program could be most of the time, now he was really beginning to regret him. It'd been too long since he'd been out and even a spider could get clusterphobic, after a while. It was just going to be a quick run – Out and back before Tony even came up from his lab to go to bed – but, of _course,_ JARVIS had to go and be keeping an eye on him.

"JARVIS, it's not what it looks like," Peter insisted, his tone hushed even though there was no way Tony would hear him all the way up here. Peter pulled his bag a little higher on his shoulder, unable to keep from fidgeting under pressure. It was one thing to lie to a baddie and a whole new thing, entirely, to lie to your butler… Nanny… Computer thing.

"It looks like you are sneaking out of your room by the window, Master Peter," JARVIS answered. If he wasn't an AI system, Peter would have sworn he was being sarcastic, "Which, may I remind you, is on the twelfth floor. You have no rope or other means to climb down in a conventional way and a fall at this height would ensure several serious injuries, if not death. I assure you your father would not be too pleased if I didn't warn him about that."

"JARVIS, you can't!" Peter hissed, panic striking him, "Look, I can explain. I just… Need to go out for a bit. I'll be back before anyone knows something happened – Not a scratch on me, you just _can't_ tell Tony."

"And why is that, Master Peter? I'm sure your father would be understanding," JARVIS pointed out.

"Oh, yeah. Real understanding that his son wanted to leave in the middle of the night to fight crime," Peter grumbled, under his breath, "Probably escort me right out the front door with a proud smile and a new spideybike."

"Sir..." JARVIS called him out of his muttering, "I can hear everything you are saying – Not to mention I have also run a serious of routine scans on you and discovered some very vital information. Considering the information had no obvious health issues and the fact I calculated that you would not be very appreciative if I passed this along, I've kept it from Master Stark, but if you intend to put yourself at risk, I will have no choice except too-"

"No, no! JARVIS, look… It's just a routine baddie, okay?" Peter was practically pleading, with a machine no less. What had his life come to? "I promise I wont get into any trouble. I really wont."

"Perhaps, Young Master, we can come to some sort of compromise," JARVIS suggested. Again, if he wasn't a computer, Peter would have almost thought him to be amused, "Your father has requested I keep him updated on if any serious change in condition occurs. If you were to take me with you, I can alert him if you become seriously hurt. In return, I need not tell him that you are leaving as you will be supervised. That is what one might call a compromise?"

"Um… Okay, I guess I'm cool with that," Peter shrugged, hopping down from the windowsill as quietly as possible, "But… I haven't got anything that can do that."

"No need to fear, Sir. There are several spare earpieces in the kitchen that belong to your father. He used to keep them there for when he accidentally dropped them in his coffee, but he has since stopped using them. Surely, he wouldn't notice if one were to go missing. I can perform rudimentary body scans as needed and keep in touch with you for any reason necessary."

"Oh." Peter couldn't help the slightly excited look in his eyes at that, dropping his backpack to the ground and creeping across the room, placing his hand on the doorknob. "Is he busy? Think I could get in and out without being seen?"

"He seems to have locked himself in his lab, Sir. You will be more than capable of going to the kitchen and back, though I would suggest not drawing attention to yourself with loud noises."

"This is almost as cool as if I was breaking into Stark Tower, myself," Peter grinned, gently pushing open the door and easily crawling up the wall. He found himself on the ceiling, wordlessly moving down the hall.

"This is as close as you can possibly get, Sir, considering security systems would detect and report your movement, immediately," JARVIS answered, Peter not even bothering to pause, "I cannot advise trying such a thing without my or your father's knowledge. While I'm under strict orders not to let any harm come to you, I can assure you the result would not be pleasant."

"I'll keep that in mind, Big guy," Peter rolled his eyes. As cool as a house that doubled as a butler was, there was really nothing enjoyable about having to take orders from said house. Even if those orders were given in the form of _advice_.

Just as Peter was about to close in on the kitchen, a feeling started up in the back of his mind; Almost like a tingling sensation. The feeling – Which Peter had come to label his _spideysense_ – was usually a sure sign of danger and stopped him in his tracks, keeping him hidden in the dark shadows of the hallway leading to the kitchen.

Seconds later, a tired looking Tony appeared in that very kitchen. Yawning, Tony approached the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. He looked directly down the darkened hallway, trying to squint to get a good look. Maybe it was just him, but he kind of felt like he was being watch and not by his friendly neighborhood AI system, either. Just as he was sure he caught the sight of something moving, JARVIS startled him out of his concentration.

"Sir. Would you like me to make you some coffee?"

"Huh? Oh… Uh… Yeah, JARVIS. That's be great." Tony rubbed his eyes, allowing the sound of the coffee maker nearby to calm his nerves. Obviously, the lack of sleep was making him jumpy. Just to be sure, though…

"JARVIS? There isn't anyone unaccounted for in the house?" Tony inquired, glancing up at the ceiling.

"Of course not, Sir." Tony let out a breath, closing his eyes to try to calm himself down. He was being paranoid. Of course he was. His tower was impenetrable… Except to Agent Coulson, apparently.

"And Peter? How's he doing?" There was a pause, one that wouldn't have seemed out out place, if Tony hadn't programmed JARVIS, himself. He frowned, but before he could open his eyes, the pause was over.

"Actually, Sir, he's coming down the hallway as we speak."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Catty:** _Yeah, so angst is a definite warning for the future. Prepare yourselves now._

* * *

Peter watched his dad for a moment before moving farther down the hallway, silent as a deadly assassin. About a good ten feet down the hall, he pulled out his phone and pressed the first button to activate his speed dial. The phone wasn't anything fancy, but Tony had programmed a couple numbers into his speed dial, assuring him they would be useful if he ever needed anything. The first number, Tony had explained, was for JARVIS.

 _"Any time you need something," He'd said, still tapping away into Peter's phone, "He's far better than calling an operator for a number or asking Siri for a recommendation. He'll answer you better than either ever will and actually has a personality while doing it. Just hit the first number and he'll pick up, automatically."_

 _"Thanks, but I don't really use either of those things, in the first place," Peter admitted._

 _Tony just smiled, amused, "Who knows. Maybe he'll come in handy for something."_

And how right Tony had been, though if he knew when that number would come into use when he'd put it into Peter's phone, he might have reconsidered. The AI system picked up before the first ring finished.

"Master Peter. I would advise retreating until your father has left the room."

"I've got a plan," Peter whispered, phone pressed to his ear as he climbed down the wall. He began pulling his shoes off the moment his feet touched the ground, "Where exactly are the earpieces, in the kitchen?"

"In the cupboard, Sir. Besides the glasses," JARVIS explained. Peter readjusted the phone to the other ear and pulled his jacket off, leaving it in the hallway beside his shoes and then pulling his pants off as well. He stood in only his boxers, a t-shirt and a pair of socks thin enough to feel the soft carpet beneath his feet.

"Awesome," Peter grinned, "Tell him I'm coming down the hallway, JARVIS. That I just woke up. I've got this." Before any more words could be exchanged, Peter ended the call and tossed the phone as gently as he could on top of his pants. He took a deep breath before beginning his way back down the hallway.

Just as he was approaching, he heard the sound of his father's voice, "And Peter? How's he doing?"

"Actually, Sir, he's coming down the hallway as we speak."

As if on cue, Peter made himself look as tired as possible, even going so far as to rub his eyes with the heels of his hand as he entered – Anything to sell the point.

"Tony?" he yawned, looking at the other with lidded eyes.

"Hey, Peter," Tony greeted, sounding two parts confused with a hint of affectionately worried, "What are you doing up?"

"Had to piss," he answered, simply. It wasn't an elaborate answer, but it usually worked with Aunt May and why change a good thing? "And then I got thirsty, so I came in here for a glass of water."

"I see," Tony smiled a little and Peter had to resist the urge to congratulate himself. Whoever thought he wasn't a great actor had to remember he'd managed to pull off being both Peter Parker and Spiderman for over a year. He could show up any kid in the drama club, if he'd wanted to… But they might have wanted him to try singing and he saved that part of himself for the shower and the occasional empty house.

"What about you?" Peter asked, heading for the cupboard with a pace slow enough to be considered sleepy. He yawned again, covering his mouth as he looked at the inside for his target. There, hidden on the side of the cupboard wall, was a rack of earpieces. As carefully as he could, he managed to pull one off as he grabbed a cup, standing with his back to Tony. The entire experience was making his blood pressure shoot up, but he'd be damned if this wasn't some adrenaline rush as well.

"I just came up for a cup of coffee," Tony answered, turning to the machine, "Speaking of which, is it ready, yet, JARVIS?"

"Yes, Sir," JARVIS answered, just as the coffee began to fill the mug that was sitting there, already.

"Excellent. Peter, will you grab another cup while you're there? You've only got to slide it into place. I'll get you your water."

"Oh, uh… Sure," Peter glanced over his shoulder. Tony had his back turned and Peter, set the glass on the counter to grab a mug from the same cupboard, but _accidentally_ swept something off the counter. When he went to go retrieve it, he was given the opportunity to stuff the earpiece in his sock, keeping it out of Tony's vision. When the billionaire turned back around, he was placing something on the counter before crossing the room and handing him a glass. Tony took the glass and walked it over to the sink while Peter fit the new mug into the coffeemaker, removing the finished coffee from it. They met in the middle and exchanged.

"Thanks," Peter muttered, throwing back his head and downing the water in one go. He had places to be and not enough time to do it.

"No problem. I think you should go to bed, now," Tony suggested, holding out his free hand for the empty glass, which Peter was more than happy to give him.

"Haha. Yeah. Good night, Tony. Try to get some sleep?"

"No promises. Good night, Kid." Peter gave a halfhearted wave, interrupted partway through with a yawn and exited down the hallway he'd come from. Scooping up his things from where he'd left them, he was back into his room before Tony had even left the kitchen to resume his work.

"Am I good or what?" Peter quietly laughed, once he was back in his room and had shut the door behind him.

"That was incredibly risky, Master Peter," JARVIS scolded.

"Oh, don't be a party pooper, JARVIS," Peter stuck his tongue out, digging the earpiece out of his sock and holding it up to the light to get a better look at it, "This the thing, then?"

"Yes, Sir."

"How's it work?" Peter turned it around a few times before putting it in place in his ear, fingers hovering over the various buttons. The biggest one was towards the bottom and made a soft pinging noise when he pressed it.

"If you can hear me, then I'll be able to pick up on everything you say from here on out, Sir," JARVIS said, his voice coming from the device instead of the room, "If you give it a moment to adjust to calibrate, it should also be able to get readings on your condition."

"Is it still gonna work with my costume on?" Peter wondered, crossing the room to his backpack and pulling out the spandex outfit. If the one he'd been trying to sneak out past already knew, there wasn't really any point in pretending like he wasn't Spiderman, anymore.

"I don't see any reason why not, Master Peter. Though, may I say your uniform is most unsafe. It barely supplies any protection to you from the enemies you face."

Peter shrugged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and the socks off before he began to get dressed as the Spiderman, "Well, I didn't really have a lot of options, before. It's easy to make and fix without bringing attention to myself. If I wanted something safer, I can't really get it without more money and that's going to raise suspicion."

The mask finally slid into place, and he readjusted his gloves, taking the opportunity to look at himself in the mirror set up in his room, "Besides, I'm fine, JARVIS. I've done this a million times before."

Peter could have sworn the AI sighed at him, "Of course, Sir."


End file.
